


Sober

by GayRainbowBridge



Series: Thunderiron Stories/Oneshots [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Couch Cuddles, Depression, Heavy Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Loki, Protective Thor (Marvel), Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayRainbowBridge/pseuds/GayRainbowBridge
Summary: After a very dangerous situation Tony gets into while drunk, the team try to sober Tony up but it proves to be a lot more difficult then they thought.Becoming desperate, Clint calls for some godly help. Specifically Thor, Tony's secret crush along with his Brother Loki. Can Thor be what Tony's needs to pull himself out of the liquor that's slowly drowning him? Or is he beyond help?
Relationships: Tony Stark/Thor
Series: Thunderiron Stories/Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099235
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ⚠️Warning: implied rape, intoxication, strong language, strong violence⚠️

"One more drink."

The bartender raised an eyebrow at the brunette who waved the look aside with a hand. The man sighed, pouring another drink and sliding it over. "Got someone who can pick you up tonight? A taxi cab, even?"

The genius shook his head, sipping the whiskey slower, his glazed eyes drifting over the many other cups that the bartender started clearing away.

"Can you call someone, maybe?" He asked, green eyes sweeping over the intoxicated man before him.

Tony sighed. Why couldn't people let him drink in peace?

"I'll walk," he muttered eventually.

"I don't even think that's safe for you, I'll be honest," the guy said, shaking his blond head. "All it takes is for you to walk in front of a car and that's it."

Tony groaned and let his head thump onto the counter. "Let me drown in my sorrows in peace, will you?"

The bartender shrugged, clearly giving up. "It's your funeral, man."

Tony scowled into his glass, the liquid sloshing around as his hand shook. Bastard. Who was he to judge him? Just like everyone else. Always judging him without the full story—

Tony threw his head back and drained the glass, hitting it hard against the table hard enough that the glass shattered.

Shit.

"Hey, what the hell, man?" The guy said, glaring at Tony who didn't look up. "Look, whatever hissy fit your having, don't take it out on our stuff, got it? These glasses cost money."

Tony barely heard him, staring blankly at the glass on the counter, in his hand, a slight sting in his fingers...blood.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden nausea that overtook him.

_'Pick it up.'_

No, no, no. Not here. Not now.

Tony forced his eyes open, mumbled a half ass apology to the guy and threw down some money to hopefully cover both his drinks and the glass he'd broken. He stood up from the bar and ambled towards the exit. It was night out. He wondered just how long he'd been drinking at the bar for, or if the others had started to worry about him.

That's how he'd ended up at the bar, drowning himself in alcohol and self pity. He'd had another fight with Steve over a mission. Not following his orders, never listening to what he said, having no sense of his own safety.

Tony wished he could have another drink. He wanted to forget. He wanted to go numb to the pain.

He staggered, leaning heavily against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. Maybe the guy was right. Maybe he should call someone. He wasn't going to make it on his own.

Tony shoved his hand into his pocket, drawing out his phone and thumbed in a number. He ignored the blood that smeared across the screen, the shattered glass having cut his hand as he put the phone to his ear with a shaky hand.

_'I said, pick it up!'_

"Hello?"

Tony took a shuddering breath. "Hi, Steve. Um...I-cou' you, uh..." Tony huffed, forcing himself to just say it and get it over with. "Cou' you come pic' me up? I can't ge' home like 'tis."

"Tony, are you...drunk?" Steve asked warily.

Tony swore he could hear the disgust in Steve's tone.

Yeah, that's right. There goes Tony Stark once again, getting piss ass drunk whenever things don't go his way. Because that's exactly what everyone thought, right? Steve was no different.

"Ca' you come or no'?" Tony slurred on his words but his agitation was still clear in them.

"Okay, I'll come get you. Where are you?" Steve asked, sounding exasperated.

"Need a ride, Sweetheart?"

Tony looked up to see a man perhaps a bit older than he was with a sly smirk on his lips, sandy blond hair blowing back in the slight breeze. Blue eyes stared at him with a dark light.

"Hm?" The guy raised an eyebrow. "I could give you a good ride. Or the other way round is perfectly good too."

Tony blinked a few times, slowly lowering his phone, hearing Steve's voice calling from the other end but at the same time not hearing him at all as he focused on the stranger. "Wha' do ya mean?"

The man grinned a twisted sort of smile. "Lemme show you, sugar," he said, reaching out and taking Tony's wrist and tugged at it, making Tony walk before the genius could think up a single protest in his alcoholic haze.

Tony stumbled along, following the man down a sketchy looking ally but Tony barely noticed when the man spun around and pushed Tony roughly against the wall.

Tony felt the phone slip from his fingers to the floor and groaned, putting his hands to the guy's chest and tried in vain to push him away. His wrists were grabbed again and pinned beside his head on the wall. He tried to wriggle out of the grasp but got absolutely nowhere. His muscles felt like putty. He couldn't fight back. He was weak. So weak. Why struggle? He didn't with his alcoholism. What was a bit more surrender?

He went limp.

"There ya go, Sugar," the guy mumbled as he leaned forward and mouthed at Tony's neck. "So sweet like this. So much easier to give in, hm?"

Tony shivered as a leg slid between his legs, rubbing gently. At least the guy was gentle. It would have been worse if he was rough about it. But this...this wasn't too bad, right?

Tony closed his eyes and let a small moan slip out. He heard the man chuckle.

"There we go. Knew you'd like it," he whispered into the brunette's ear. "Now let's turn you around and see that pretty little ass of yours."

Tony had a feeling that he didn't actually get a choice here so he waited for the grip on his wrists slipped away to his waist and very slowly turned around.

This was fine. He was fine.

Tony shuddered as fingers hooked onto his pants and yanked down to show off his ass.

"Ooh, that's good, Sweetheart," the guy groaned, running his hands over the cleft of his ass. "Now you just be still and let me do the work and I promise you'll love every second of it."

Tony swallowed. He was glad he was so drunk. He was already so far away, not able to think straight. He didn't struggle when the man slipped a saliva coated finger inside him.

Why would he?

He didn't deserve anything better than to be treated like an object. Something to use. Not worth anyone's time except when they wanted something from him.

No, he was fine.

Tony ignored the broken sound slipping past his lips when the guy made quick work and almost instantly pulled his fingers out to replace with his cock, pushing in, stretching. It burned.

Fine, he was...fine...

Tears slipped free and the world seemed to fade away into the darkness that filled Tony's heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️Warning: strong language⚠️

"This is getting fucking out of hand!"

Tony's mind felt hazy, filled with fuzz making his thoughts sluggish. He felt as his head throbbed painfully and although he didn't like it, he was just too tired to do anything about it.

He felt warm though which was an upside. He laid on something soft for his back which was sore and ached. His head rested on something he couldn't make out. Not a pillow. Something else. What was it?

"I know, Clint. Trust me, I know. We all do. We can see what's happening here. We're not blind. We're going to help him, don't worry."

"I'm allowed to be worried, okay? Fuck, he just...why does he keep doing this to himself, Steve? Because of a fucking argument? This isn't healthy. In fact, it's damn well dangerous, especially now. He was...jesus. Why would he let that happen to him, drunk or not? Why—?"

"I don't know."

Tony processed the words floating into his head. Steve. Steve was here. He was concerned. Concerned about...who? And Clint sounded annoyed. He didn't like that. What was going on?

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too heavy.

"He needs help, Steve. Professional help. We can't let him keep doing this to himself!" Clint said firmly with a biting tone.

"I'm trying, okay? I'm going to try to convince him but...you know he's stubborn. We just have to protect him from getting hurt from his addiction—"

"From getting hurt? From getting _hurt_?! Are you fucking kidding me right now?! He is hurt! He was fucking raped!" Clint's voice rang out followed by a tense silence.

Rape? Rape...who was raped? Who got hurt? Who...?

It all came back to Tony in a massive wave of memories, threatening to drown him in them. He gasped out, eyes snapping open and flailed about as he tried to sit up.

"Tony! Tony, hey. It's okay, you're safe," Steve voice promised softly, a strain to his tone that suggested he was trying to keep calm for Tony's sake.

A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched back. _'Don't touch me. Don't, no. Please, don't touch...don't...please.'_

The hand drew back as if hearing his thoughts. "Tony, it's okay. Come on, Tones. You're safe."

Tony swallowed repeatedly as he tried to focus on the words, on what was around him. His headache throbbed worse then before as he managed to focus his gaze on the person in front of him.

"Steve?" Tony croaked out.

Steve smiled though it looked pained. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay. You're safe, I promise."

Tony took a shuddering breath, shifting on the couch he now realised he was laid out on, resting on his side, his head in someone's lap. He turned to look at who it was and sighed in relief when Bruce's face swam into view. He wasn't sure how he'd feel or react to someone else having physical contact with him right now.

Except maybe Tho—

"What happened?" Tony asked, forcing his thoughts back and focusing on the present.

Steve grimaced but made himself answer with clear difficulty. "You didn't answer when I called you through the call. I heard you and someone talking but I couldn't make it out. Then I heard a banging sound and panicked. I didn't know what happened. I got Clint to trace where your phone was and..."

Tony didn't need to Steve yo finish, didn't want him to. "The guy?"

Steve looked down shamefully. "He was gone before we got there. We found you passed out and took you home. Treated your...wounds."

Tony's breath hitched at the thought of anyone touching him more than the guy already had. "Who—?"

"I did," Bruce answered, already knowing what the question would be. Bruce was running a soothing hand through his hair, perhaps to keep Tony calm. It was working just a bit.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay...okay, good. I should, um...I got things to do in the lab and—"

"Tony, no," Steve protested instantly as Tony sat up. "You're not going to just pretend this didn't happen."

Tony gave Steve a half hearted glare. "What then? You want me to think about it? What he did? How he pinned me to a wall and took what he wanted? Is that what you want me to think about?"

"God, Tony, no," Steve said, looking pale. "We don't want that. But you can't ignore that you have...a problem."

"Problem? I don't have a problem," Tony stated firmly. "Ain't nothing wrong. Just a guy getting a bit too familiar. It's fine—"

"Tony, please. Please don't make a joke out of this. This is serious," Steve tried. "I don't mean that. Though it's part of it. I meant your...drinking problem."

Tony went stiff all over.

Bruce seemed to notice as he reached out a hand, rubbing over Tony's back in soothing circular motions.

"I don't have a problem," Tony repeated, more forcefully this time.

"Tony—"

"Stop," Tony said, tone full of warning. "Just stop. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing to fix. So just stop."

"Bullshit," Clint growled out who up to now was silent. "Don't fucking lie. You've been violated and your trying to pretend your fine—"

"I am fine," Tony mumbled.

"Don't even try it," Clint snapped at him. "No one can be fine with this. This isn't okay. What's so hard about accepting our help? Because you need help, Tony. Professional fucking help."

Tony stood up. "I don't need fucking pity, alright? I'm fine. I don't need you acting like you actually give a damn about me. I've done quite well without any of your concern. I don't need it now. So just leave me the fuck alone!"

The room was dead silent.

Tony let out a shaky breath. Then he turned on his heel and walked from the room.

He wished someone had gone after him, called him back, held him close and promised him all the support he wanted but would never ask for, afraid of being judged as weak. He just needed someone to tell him it would all be okay. That's all he wanted.

But no one did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✒Tony my poor baby 😢 LET THEM HELP YOU GOD DAMMIT!!!✒


End file.
